Something That Scarcely Began
by ashleydaub
Summary: In his life, there's been no one like her anywhere. His heart breaks at the thought of her spending her life chasing after a man that would never be able to love her the way she deserves. DISCLAIMER: I do not own Les Mis or any of the characters. Rated T for violence and possible suggestive themes in future chapters.


The early morning sun found its way under the makeshift curtains, illuminating the red flag that hung on the wall above Enjolras' head. Groggily, the young republican rose to his feet and walked to the window. While his room was shabby and very old, the dusty window was able to bring in enough light to make the place feel alive. Yawning heavily, he reached up and pulled open the curtains, flooding the room with light. He could feel the energy in the air, and knew the day was coming closer. Enjolras had given up his education and higher-class life in hopes of doing something great for his beloved country. But there was a dark corner in the back of his mind trying to whisper in his ears thoughts of failure and defeat. He tried not listening to the voice, but he knew deep down that he and his friends were no match against the entire French army.

"One day more," he whispered to himself. "Another day and things still don't seem to be going according to plan." Sprawled out across the desk were the plans Enjolras had tirelessly slaved over, wasting away much of the new year. It was only a day until June, and barely a day went by without countless revisions being made to the plans. With one last look out to the new month's sunrise, Enjolras gathered up his things and headed out the door.

He soon found himself in the center of town, surrounded by hundreds of beggars who were shivering from disease. The plague was nowhere near as detrimental as the Black Death a few centuries earlier, but that thought did not lessen the pain of watching innocent people dying on the street. How could one help these people if they are too afraid of contracting the disease themselves? The thought tortured Enjolras daily, but he knew he couldn't risk death. He had a revolution to lead. It was his dream that once liberty was ensured and a new government was established, there would be an increased amount of specialists that would be sent to aid these dying citizens. At the least, that was the sort of life he was hoping to bring about through revolution. Though he had very little money, Enjolras tossed a few coins to a family with three young children. He had seen that family a day earlier; had witnessed their grief as their beloved mother and wife died in labor, the baby boy not living for more than a minute.

It was midday by the time that everyone was settled at the ABC Café. Their fearless leader, Enjolras, claimed his rightful spot in the front of the room, all eyes settled on him. There he spoke inspirationally of revolution, his friends captivated by how moving and persuasive he was. Even Marius, who would read over every speech Enjolras prepared, was captivated. Any concern or worry anyone may have had was put to rest by the time the speech was over. The was Enjolras spoke, no one could have dreamed that there plans would all fall through; that their efforts would have been for nothing.

Finally sitting down, Enjolras took a deep swig from his bottle, letting the alcohol burn in the back of his throat. Although he was able to convince his friends otherwise, the voice in the back of his head was still listing all of the reasons why they would never be able to succeed. One by one, the people started clearing out as the sun began setting. Eventually, Enjolras was left alone with only his drink as company. At least until the sound of footsteps grabbed his attention.

"I'm terribly sorry, Monsieur. I didn't mean to interrupt your thoughts." Even though the light in the café had dimmed substantially, he could still make out the figure of a slender girl with long hair. She stepped into a small ray of light, and Enjolras lost his breath. There she stood, beautiful, even with the dirt that covered her. It wasn't hard to see that her long brown hair was matted with mud, although her vibrant brown eyes shone bright enough to distract from any other imperfection. He recognized this girl. She was the young lady that followed Marius around like a tail. Oh how he envied Marius and how, even though this girl was madly in love with him, he either didn't realize or chose not to acknowledge the fact. Her voice suddenly pierced through his wall of thoughts. "Monsieur?"

"Ah, yes," he said, rising out of his chair and meeting her halfway, "can I assist you in any way?"

"I'm searching for Marius. I was waiting at his home, but he never arrived. I figured he was still here."

"I'm sorry, mademoiselle. Marius left quite a few hours ago," he replied gently. He felt a pang in his heart as he watched a tear form in the corner of her eye. Not knowing what else he could do, he invited the lady to sit with him and share the remains of his drink.

They sat there long into the night, telling stories about their childhoods and their dreams. It was easy to judge by the dirt that covered Éponine that she came from a very poor family, but it never occurred to Enjolras just how bad her life was. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and console her as she told him stories about how her father would beat her when she wouldn't comply with his devious schemes, and how she was trapped in a living nightmare where her knight in shining armor didn't view her as more than a friend. It broke his heart hearing just how much she loved Marius, knowing he could never return that love. _Be with me_, he thought. _I swear to you that I would love you every day for the rest of my life the way you deserve_. Though he never dared to utter the words aloud, the glimmer in her eyes as she looked at him showed that maybe, just maybe, she understood.


End file.
